


Up a Blind Alley (fanfic & fanart)

by sg_fic



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Embedded Images, Fanart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_fic/pseuds/sg_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Logan had been the blind one all along? My take on X-Men Evolution’s Blind Alley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Up a Blind Alley

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[授权翻译]死胡同 / Up a Blind Alley](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551447) by [swflora_sw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swflora_sw/pseuds/swflora_sw)



> Hugs, kisses and a million thanks to my lovely beta, Bostongirl2003 ♥ Any possible mistakes are me ruining her good work. I'd also like to thank walkonwaterbabe for the much needed reminder! Better late than never ;)

 

In a sense, Logan’s mutation was a bit like telepathy. There he was, trying to enjoy a well-deserved break from the intense reconstruction work, but instead of a blissful cat nap he was hearing voices in his head.

**_“—Jean?—Scott?”_ **

_“…I’m sorry. What did you want?”_

_“No, no. Go ahead.”_

_“You first.”_

_“Well…”_

**_*bamf*_ **

_“It’s Alex…”_

_“…this will just take a second. Hello? Alex? What’s wrong?”_

Logan couldn’t make out what Scott’s brother was saying on the other end, but he could swear he heard the words ‘surfing’, ‘Mexico’ and ‘wallet’ being said.

He sighed and tilted his hat until it covered his eyes. The spot he found behind the mansion was supposed to be a nice quiet one, the old apple tree a perfect fit against his sore back. Why his stupid heightened senses kicked into action just then was beyond him. He couldn’t care less about Scott and Jean’s puppy love.

He clenched his teeth in dismay. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it, not round here, where someone with _actual_ telepathy might be the one listening in on _him_.

 _“I’ll be there as soon as I can get a flight, meet me at the airport.”_ Scott said and Logan’s eyes flew open.

He and Summers had spent the whole morning up on the roof trying to fix the antenna and were supposed to meet up there again after the break. Something had to be seriously wrong for Charles’s golden boy to ditch him in the middle of work.

_It’s going to be one of those days…_

Scott sighed, looking down at the vast desert. Things just weren’t going his way.

He kept on nervously crumpling his flight ticket until the paper looked chewed. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing. The timing was all wrong—until he finally found a scrap of courage…

…but at least he’d be able to get Alex’s advice. God knew his attempt to speak to Logan earlier on the roof had failed miserably.

Tired, he carefully lifted his glasses and rubbed his tightly shut eyes. He couldn’t go on like this… he was losing focus… losing sleep…

He’d figure it out, but first thing first. He had to make sure Alex got home safe.

At the announcement to do so, Scott fastened his seatbelt and got ready for landing.

Logan stared at the wrench in his hand, dumbstruck. He didn’t need it… he didn’t even remember picking it up.  

Ironically, it was him who couldn’t concentrate for more than a minute now that he was all alone on the roof.

He clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt. Chuck was but two floors below…

If the Wolverine was ever to leave the X-Men—it would be because he _chose_ to, not because Xavier kicked him out.   

The thought didn’t occur to him in years, but things changed… people changed. And now the need was so strong Logan felt as if it would consume him whole if he doesn’t quench it… or leave.

“Hey, hey, hey! There he is!” In spite of it all, Scott was thrilled to see Alex. After thinking Alex was dead for so many years, every minute spent with his baby brother was nothing short of a gift, fetching him from Mexico because he had lost his wallet included.  

“Bro! Am I glad to see you!” Alex hugged him and they started walking towards the exit.

 “C’mon, let’s get you something to eat.”

In hindsight Alex felt strangely cold to the touch, but right then Scott wrote it off to the prolonged stay in the air-conditioned airport. If he really thought about it, Alex smelt different too... taking the surfer-boy cliché to the extreme, his baby brother usually smelt like a Hollister store. That day however, Scott couldn’t smell a damn thing.

“Aw, great! There’s a place down this way!”

And a sudden, hard shove knocked Scott off his feet and into an empty corridor.

“Alex?! What the—”

The air filled with dense smoke that tasted bitter in his mouth.

“It’s payback time.”

He heard Mystique say, but he couldn’t see a damn thing.

He learned Zazen meditation in a Rinzai temple in Kyoto back in 1945. It was the only thing keeping his troubled mind at bay as he walked alongside Charles, the forbidden thoughts suppressed so deeply that he himself wasn’t aware of them right then.

**_“Nooo!”_ **

Charles was commending the progress they’d made over the last week, saying that the mansion interior looked brand new, when they suddenly heard Jean scream.

They rushed to the room from which the scream came, but Charles stopped Logan by the door _//a nightmare, I won’t be long//_ he soundlessly told him and proceeded on his own.

“Are you alright, Jean?”

“Professor, Scott’s in trouble!”

“Or it could be that you just had a nightmare?”

“No, no. something’s wrong, I sensed it”

“Jean. Scott is too far out if psychic range… even for me. Please, don’t worry. A bad dream is usually just that. A dream.”

Jean nodded, and once he was certain that she was okay, the Professor wheeled himself out of the room… but Logan was already gone.

His shoulders sagged. He intended to speak to the feral mutant when Jean’s nightmare interrupted them, and that talk was long overdue. 

A good couple of months have passed since Logan closed his mind to him, and Charles didn’t like it. Whatever it was, it was distancing Logan from the team.

Although Charles had a good idea of what he might hear if he started prodding, the truth was always better than living in fear…

…and if he was right…

Well, he’d deal with it then.     

Logan was in the garage although he didn’t remember going there. Only that Jean said Scott was in trouble and her words rang too true.

Should he go after him in his state? He was worried that he had denied himself for too long. Logan could handle it, but the Wolverine was another story…

Yet there he was straddling his motorcycle and gunning the engine.

_Guess it doesn’t really matter, then._

Scott woke with a grunt, his face pressed against warm sand.

His glasses were gone.

_…what happened?_ Then he remember and jumped to his feet.

“Where am I?” he demanded, but Mystique didn’t reply. No one did, and his stomach turned at the sick notion that sprung to his mind. But yeah, deserting a blind man in the desert to slowly meet his death sure sounded like her.

Sick puppy that he was, his first and most urgent thought was that he didn’t want to die before confessing his feelings.

Deciding that he wouldn’t let that happen, he stood on shaky legs and began walking.

_Far enough._ Logan decided, his motorcycle roaring, the desert air caressing his face.

His mind began tentatively relaxing. The mental walls began tumbling down.

The morning events began playing in his head, only this time he allowed himself to _feel_. 

When Hank distributed the assignments earlier that morning, Logan was furious to learn that he got paired with Scott; a wave of paranoia washed over him and his stomach tightened with a suppressed, angry growl.

Had he known he and Summers would end up shirtless on the roof, he would have told McCoy that he was going back to bed, and that the good doctor could go up there himself for all he cared.

But he didn’t know, and Hank sent them to the roof after Logan had already accepted Summers as his partner.

‘Don’t forget it’s 83 degrees out there Logan, drink plenty and take lots of breaks!’

‘Ever told ya you’re a blue pain in the ass?’ Was Logan’s muttered reply.

Angry, he didn’t wait for Scott and made his way to the roof. The sun was direct, the antenna was still missing and the cables were a tangled mess. He took his shirt off and began undoing them.

“Logan?” 

_Breathe through the nose. Think of not thinking._

“Scott.”

“Hey… I brought these.” Scott set down two bottles of ice cold water.

“Right.” Logan rose to his feet and Scott turned his back on him, removing his own shirt.

 _God damn it._ Needing to look away Logan began idly searching the tool box.

He caught a first whiff of the boy, soap and musk, and thought of not thinking.

For Logan, living in the x-mansion with thirty something teenagers meant the air always reeked. Even in winter time, to his heightened senses the mansion was a strong mixture of sweat, hormones and pheromones.

At its worst, which was usually during spring break, Logan always took off—sometimes for several weeks. Everyone assumed that the aloof Wolverine simply needed space, and knowing that the truth would make everyone extremely self-conscious around him, he played along.             

He didn’t mind the adults, each had his own unique scent, which was neutral as far as Logan was concerned. Nothing at all like the distracting, head-ache inducing, impossible to ignore scent that was confusion and hormones and youth.

No he didn’t mind the adults… and he didn’t mind Scott. He realized that two years ago, when he was giving the kid his driving lessons.

Being the only faculty member happy to do so, Logan spent a lot of time with the older students in Charles’ car. He found that one on one—the scent wasn’t too bad. It didn’t attack his nostrils the same way it did when he walked into a class full of students.

Then Scott turned sixteen and was assigned to him, and what do you know… The kid smelt of soap… musk… and something else, unique... Something that Logan simply labeled ‘Scott’—the same way he did with Ro and Hank and Wheels.

Scott was neutral. Pleasant even.

Logan found that when Summers was around he could just home in on his scent and blot out the rest of the class. Scott felt like a sanctuary to his over active senses.

He didn’t make much of it back then—there was no reason to.

But about six months ago something changed… Scott changed. Well, his scent did. More musky, and… _warmer_ somehow. Intoxicating.

It started one evening after a Danger Room class. Logan ran the session and at the end, while all of the other students made their way to the showers, loudly laughing and chatting, Scott came by to thank him. There was nothing unusual about that, from the moment Chuck brought him to the mansion hungry, blind and scared, the kid didn’t take anything for granted. He was always grateful.

“Thanks Logan,” Scott gave him a friendly pat on the arm, “you ran a challenging simulation today.”

The gesture was casual and innocent, but that was the first time Scott smelt so damn good and unprepared Logan’s heart rate doubled so suddenly it felt like a punch to the guts. _What the hell?_

“Don’t mention it,” _and get the hell away from me!_

Scott finally did, but there was no mistaking Logan’s physical reaction… there was no denying that he got rock hard, just like that. _Fuck._

Or rather; what the fuck?

The only explanation that he could come up with was Jean. Scott and Jean seemed to have grown pretty close over the last year, and all of that courtship crap must have caused Summers to reek of pheromones… pheromones which seemed to have turned Logan on.  Painfully so.

A student.

A just barely eighteen year old student.

Scott fucking Summers.

The kid and him used to work together in the garage, train together when they both couldn’t find their piece of mind, drink quietly in a remote corner in yet another one of the mansion’s big parties, where they both didn’t fit in (in spite of elf-boy’s many attempts to lure Summers to dance)—how come he never noticed how good looking Charles’ golden boy was up until now? Perfect hair, angular face, those damn high cheek bones… how lean his slim body was… Logan even liked the way Scott dressed, which was a new low for him; the Wolverine didn’t care about such things. 

He should have left. It would have been the ethical thing to do... But the mansion was his home, the X-Men were his pack…

The way he figured it, it was only a matter of time before Scott and Jean finally hooked up and the damn courtship period would be over. He just needed to hold tight for a while.

So he avoided Scott and waited.

For six long months Logan watched him and Jean dance around the issue. He would curse their indecisiveness, hoping that they’d put him out of his misery… only to watch Jean leaning in a little too close to Scott for his liking, and tremble with anger, suppressing a growl. 

Adding insult to injury—if Summers even noticed that he kept his distance, he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to have grown so close to Jean that he didn’t have time for Logan anyway.

Logan knew feeling this way wasn’t right.

He felt guilty for wanting Scott, he felt guilty for feeling jealous… and he was so tired of hiding his feelings from Charles—that the whole ordeal was beginning to make Logan genuinely miserable. He was beginning to question his initial desire to stay. 

So that morning on the roof he cursed with all his heart when he spotted Jean below. She was supposed to lift the antenna to them, and that meant that a love sick Summers would drive him mad.

A love sick, great smelling, shirtless Summers at that.

‘Logan? Have you ever… you know… really cared for someone?’

‘Pliers.’ Was Logan’s only reply, his mind screaming _shut up kid!_ He was the last person Scott should be talking to about this—so, of course, just his luck!

He wanted for Summers to stink like the other kids and repulse him! Or for him to just hook up with Jean and let him be! He wanted for Jean and Charles to move to Alaska. He wanted to run his hands all over Scott’s pale, wiry torso. To shove Scott against the antenna and bite the bare shoulders. He wanted to—

‘I mean you felt it so strong that you couldn’t even get the words out?’ Scott wouldn’t shut up no matter how disinterested Logan acted.

‘Yeah, once.’ He needed for Scott to shut up. He needed to think of not thinking.

‘The most beautiful bike I ever saw. I was so speechless someone else bought her.’ And Scott’s face fell. Maybe now he’d finally shut up.

Their fingers brushed when Scott handed him the tool and furious at how much the simple touch excited him Logan half shouted ‘Not wire stripers, pliers! Use your eyes kid!’

He was hurting Scott, but he didn’t care. Maybe his scent would finally change. Into hatred or fear… anything would be better than raw lust... He looked up…

_…God damn it Summers, stop looking at me like some sad puppy! Jean was *your* problem, and now you went and made it *mine*!_

But Scott just kept looking down at him with a sad little frown, while smelling like heaven.

 ‘Look,’ he finally said angrily and rose to his feet, ‘Here’s how I see it. I’d like to finish this job before New Year’s… so if you don’t tell her—I will!’

‘Err, no! That’s okay!’ Scott raised both his hands in a plea and Logan finally smelt fear... but even that smelt nice combined with the kid’s scent and Logan could just drive his claws through the wall when the bell finally rang for their break.

‘Um… I’ll see you later then…’ Scott stammered, and Logan nodded, already turning his back on the kid while thinking _don’t count on it._

…But that was then. Now Logan would have killed in order to see Scott, make sure he was safe.

_Not safe._

The sun was setting, the world was painted red, yet there was no mistaking the red optic blasts that lit the sky.

Diverting from the road to the airport, adrenaline pumping through his veins, Logan put the pedal to the metal and prayed that it wasn’t too late.

Scott walked for hours in the hot, endless desert. He was covered in sweat, but kept on carrying his jacket knowing that the night-time temperatures were a whole different story.

_“Hello!”_

Noting. He risked briefly opening his eyes.

The optic blast was blinding, but around the edges Scott made out a cactus and a large rock being blown to bits. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“The good news—no one was there… the bad news…” blindly extending his arms Scott renewed his steps, “…no one was there.”  

It was becoming chilly. At first the cool wind felt like a blessing, but the longer he walked the frostier the air got. His jacket wouldn’t help one bit if he didn’t find a shelter before night fell.

“Anybody?!” He risked opening his eyes once again; a vast, empty wasteland was being blown to smithereens. He quickly squeezed them shut.

A cold draft made him shiver. It must be getting dark.

He was about to put on his jacket but suddenly froze.

“Hello?!” he heard _something_. He was sure of that.

The only answer was a blood freezing howl. Then another… and another.

Logan had to slow down in order to drive his motorcycle on the rough, uneven terrain. Worried as he was, the Wolverine was happy for some action. Cooped up in the mansion for too long with nothing but the Danger Room simulations to distract him was making him dangerously cranky. The new sexual frustration wasn’t helping any. He was thirsty for blood and whoever was attacking Summers was going to pay.

From the sound of it there were about five wolves in front of him. He heard gravel turn as they began running towards him and shut a blast towards the ground, scaring them off.

_It worked!_

“Ah!”

Something heavy hit his back, jaws closed on his shoulder, and terrified Scott dropped his jacket, grabbed fistfuls of fur and threw the animal off of him.

He began running…

…and so did they.

“Hello? Oh, Alex! I’m glad you got home from Mexico already! …What?! Have you talked to Scott at all today? Oh, no!”

Jean hung up, pale.

_“Professor!!!”_

His shirt got almost completely torn, as were his jeans where he fell and hit his knee. The wolves got bolder, and were growing in numbers by the minute. Every couple of steps a wolf jumped him and Scott threw it off. He managed to avoid getting bitten so far but his luck was beginning to run out; he took the wrong turn and felt a cold draft of air coming from below… a cliff. He managed to stop in the nick of time, but then a wolf’s jaw snapped shut inches from Scott’s leg forcing him to quickly retreat—

—Scott yelped as he lost his balance. For a terrifying, short eternity he struggled to regain it, then to his complete horror—he fell into the abyss.

Ironically, now that he desperately wanted to breathe in Scott’s scent all he could smell was dust and dew.

The optic blasts stopped and Logan could almost taste his dread. Summers was either safe or defeated…

He hastened his steps sniffing the air and praying to God that it wasn’t the later.

…Nothing.

He mounted his motorcycle once more and drove towards the area where the optic blasts were last seen.

Scott was tumbling down, blind and terrified, slamming against rocks as he fell and praying that he wouldn’t hit a cactus…   

…until he came to a stop.

He was hurting all over, but he was still alive. The slope was just gradual enough for him to survive, and steep enough for him to get rid of the wolves.

He landed supine and for a long minute was too afraid to move, not entirely sure that he wanted to find out just how badly he got hurt...

When Logan finally caught Summers’s clean scent it was the sweetest breath of air he’d ever took. It was still warm and intoxicating; Scott was still alive.

At the same time it hurt like hell.

He knew that the truth would repulse Scott... that Chuck would kick him out... that the other X-Men would be furious—he’d lose all of his friends.

But the worst part was that he will single handedly ruin Charles’s lifetime achievement. What would the younger team members think, knowing that the teachers in their school were lusting after students?

He should leave.

It was crystal clear to him now that he allowed his thoughts to run free.

 

He bashed the back of his head against a rock when he fell, and now a splitting headache started at his temples… behind his eyes… at the base of his skull…

At his first attempt to sit up the world spun so violently that he fell back with a groan.

Lying on his back, Scott cursed himself for losing his jacket; it felt like the temperatures had fell below zero. The sweat cooled on his skin and he began shaking, his teeth began chattering.

Tired, cold and sore, he was beginning to drift away…

…was it safe for him to fall asleep after bumping his head? Scott was worried that if he’d fall asleep he’d lose consciousness; he needed to stay awake.

But he was dizzy… tired from the struggle… hungry, and so very cold…

_You can do this, Summers. Just stay up.  Just think… think about Alex… you have to get to a phone and make sure that he’s safe... yeah… think of… of…_

He was falling asleep… if he could only open his eyes… but with his eyes closed he was drifting, drifting…

_No!_

He pushed himself into a sitting position, but the world was still spinning and all he could do was pant.

He drove past a pack of wolves. They sat lazily on a cliff, peering down, and connecting the dots Logan drove downhill to the valley below with his heart racing and his mouth completely dry.

Scott forced himself to remain seated; it was the only way to hang on to consciousness.

But he was beginning to lose sensation in both his hands and feet, and his teeth stopped chattering because he was feeling too weak.

Was he going to die of hypothermia in the middle of nowhere? Were his team members even looking for him?

//…Professor?//

//…Jean?//

He tried for the millionth time since he woke up, but no answer came. He was too far for psychic connection.

The scent was too weak for his liking. He either got it wrong and Summers wasn’t down there, or Scott wasn’t well (he dared not think of any other option). He drove slowly and quietly, to allow his eyes to scan the dark valley and his ears to pick up—

_“…Anyone there?”_

_Scott!_ _He was alive!_

But his voice was so weak, only audible to Logan’s sensitive ears. The kid must have been miles away— he was wrong; Scott didn’t fall off that cliff. Logan was about to ride off to the far end of the valley, but found that he couldn’t hit the gas. He read the dial on his dashboard; two degrees below zero… one mistake and Summers would be as good as dead. 

“Scott?” he called and the scent immediately intensified… there, by the rocks! How could he have missed him?!

He jumped off his bike and ran towards the hunched over figure, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark. It was Summers alright, sitting on the ground with his clothes nearly completely torn off.

“Stand back!” Scott shouted and Logan froze. The air stank with fear.

 _He knows._ Was Logan’s immediate, painful thought.

Scott knew how he felt and would rather die than be saved by him. And boy, did that hurt. Logan felt humiliated and almost… heartbroken? What the hell? It was just a crush, a meaningless—

 “Who’s there?” Scott demanded, aiming his deadly gaze towards him warningly, his eyes squeezed shut ridiculously hard, as if the kid didn’t trust his own eyelids.

  1. His glasses were gone.



“Hey,” Logan raised both hands in surrender even though Scott couldn’t see. “It’s me.”

“Prove it!”

 _Prove it?_ ...She got out then? But how?!

“You did a crappy job with the antenna today.” Logan stated dryly and Scott’s shoulders sagged.

“Logan? …how did you find me?”

The kid smelt so damn good again… maybe it wasn’t lust at all. Maybe it was just the way he smelt. The more the reason for Logan to leave the mansion.

“Long story, what happened? Mystique?”

“Yeah… She drugged me at the airport. I woke up out here. Got attacked by wolves, fell down and bumped my head… Logan… I don’t feel so good… I think it might be a concussion. My head is killing me.”

“Can you stand?”

“Not really… Too dizzy.”

“Right. Let me have a look,” Logan warned so that Scott wouldn’t jump. He kneeled next to him and gently touched his shoulder through what was left of his shirt, wanting to gradually introduce the frightened boy to his touch.

Starting with his pulse, he pressed two fingers against the kid’s neck, just under his jaw.

“Jeez Summers, you’re freezing! How long have you been down here anyway?” He asked and took gentle hold of Scott’s head, a little nervous as to what he may find—as 50 beats per minute wasn’t all that great.

“Not sure… hours? I lost my jacket when I got attacked. Can’t really feel my feet… Logan…. is it really bad?” Scott tried sounding brave about it, but the lithe body was unmistakably trembling in his hands.

“You’ll be fine Summers. Just hold still.” Logan casually said. The last thing he needed was for Scott to go into shock.

“…’kay.” Scott said as he obviously struggled to remain seated.

“Hey… Hold still, I’m nearly done,”

There was a small bump on Scott’s head but that was about it, he wasn’t bleeding or vomiting and it sounded like he could think straight. He was completely cold to the touch however, and Logan needed to act fast.

Logan was gently prodding the bruise on his head and sick puppy that he was, Scott leaned into the touch. He hated for Logan to see him this weak, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t happy it was Logan who had found him. 

“Where does it hurt?”

“Just there… and there’s this pain behind my eyes…”

“Right. Give me your shirt, will ya.”

“…what?”

“You’re shirt Summers. It’s not doing you any good anyway, hand it over.”

Scott took off what remained of his shirt and handed it to Logan. He heard the metal claws unshed and waited, blind and fascinated, while Logan cut the material.

“Don’t move,” Logan warned and began wrapping an improvised blindfold around his eyes. “…How’s that?”

“It’s… better. Thanks.” The blindfold was just tight enough to allow Scott to relax against it. His headache was already beginning to abide.

“Up,” Logan commanded, giving Scott his hand.

“…can’t.” Scott tired with a groan. His feet were too numb. His head was too light.

“Okay. I won’t be a minute.”

Logan went back to his motorcycle and took a bottle of water and a woolen blanket that was stored under the seat.

“Drink,” he supported Scott with a hand around his shoulders, while ignoring the voices in his head that told him that if Scott knew—he wouldn’t let Logan touch him even therapeutically.

He then wrapped the blanket around the lithe body and with an arm around Scott’s waist helped him to his feet.

“I can’t…” Scott wobbled but Logan supported him, unremitting.

“You have to. Just make it as far as my bike.” He brought the vehicle as close as he possibly could.  

He helped Scott climb onto his bike then sat behind him, tormented by having him so close and angry that he even noticed their closeness with so much adrenaline rushing through his veins.

_One final push… As soon as Summers is back in the mansion, I’m out of there._

Scott was trembling, his limbs were aching and his mind was foggy. Logan brought him to a rocky area where they were sheltered from the wind and sat him up against a rock while he went to gather wood.

“Hello?” Scott sharply turned his head. The blindfold helped, his headache was almost gone, but now he felt completely helpless and unable to defend himself.

“It’s only me, kid.”

Scott slumped back against the rock. The blanket Logan wrapped around him did nothing for him. His body didn’t produce any heat for comfort. His nose and lips were beginning to feel numb, but what worried him most was that he was no longer feeling cold. Instead he was beginning to feel very, very weak.

“Any luck?”

“…not really.” Logan admitted, and Scott didn’t like the sound of his voice. Something ought to be very wrong for the Wolverine to sound this way.

“Logan?”

It must have rained the previous day. What little wood he could find was completely wet.

“…Logan?” The kid was as white as a sheet. His lips had a sickening blue tint to them.

Logan kneeled next to him and searched for the right words. He was certain that the X-Men were on their way, but at this rate Summers would die on his shift and the only thing McCoy would be able to do is determine the time of death.

The prolonged silence was unnerving the kid, and still Logan couldn’t get the words out. Not without feeling like a perv. Maybe it sounded like the oldest trick in the pervert book because he wanted Summers so damn much? It was just first aid…

“Logan please! I can’t see, you can’t just ignore me like that! I can’t even tell if you’re still there…” Scott sounded scared and sad and it pained Logan enough for him to finally say—

“We should share body heat.”

 “…we what?”

“I couldn’t find any dry wood... and, you know… Hypothermia can be fatal…” Logan mumbled, glad that Scott couldn’t see the fierce blush that spread across his face.

“…so, like?” Scott gulped loudly. Even in his poor state he looked nervous as hell.  

“So like take your clothes off.” Short and to the point. It was just first aid.

“I… I don’t think I can…”

“Yeah?! Well, I’m not thrilled about it either, One-Eye! So if you got a better idea now’s the time!”

“I meant that I can’t undress.” Scott said in an angry, tightly controlled voice.

_Damn it._

“Oh. Right... Let me help,” Ashamed, Logan forced himself to move to Scott’s side, but the kid shied away from him,

“Just forget it Logan, I’m fine.”

“I can’t forget it, Scott.” Yeah, okay. He screwed up. But couldn’t the kid see past his dumb remark and focus on what mattered? “…I can’t be the one telling Charles that you didn’t make it. I…” Logan couldn’t find the right words and sighed, “Come here.”

“...”

 “Summers… don’t make me force ya.” _You stubborn piece of—_

 

“Ha! You wouldn’t dare.” Scott spat in anger. “I don’t want you touching me and that’s that.”

 _What the hell climbed up his ass?!_ Logan was beginning to get pretty annoyed himself.

“You hit your head and you are suffering from hypothermia. You’re in no condition to make that call.” Logan rose to his feet impatiently.

“Don’t you dare!” with an obvious effort Scott removed the blindfold and aimed his deadly gaze at Logan.

“You gonna stop me?” Logan removed his leather jacket and spread it on the ground, unimpressed.

“If you come any closer!” Scott warned, but Logan, as quiet as a cat approached him, and, taking advantage of the way the blanket was restraining the kid, scooped him up quickly and efficiently.

“No!” The boy was struggling, trying to push Logan away, but he was so weak by then that Logan could barely feel it.

“Quiet,” 

He threw the kid over his shoulder and carried him to where his jacket was laid, on a windproof corner that he found. 

He then laid Scott over his jacket and removed the blanket so that he could begin undoing the kid’s belt.

Scott was squirming and trying to push his hands away, but much stronger even on one of Scott’s better days, Logan simply caught the boy’s wrists and continued to undress him single handedly. 

“Relax Summers, don’t fight me.”

“Stop it! Stop!” Scott cried. Logan ignored him and tugged the torn jeans off and away, leaving Scott in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

“No! No—”

The boy was arching, pushing, mewling—until Logan was seeing red;

“That’s enough! Hold still GOD DAMN IT!”

And shocked, Scott froze.

Logan stood up then, and made a quick job of getting undressed. He couldn’t begin to imagine how it must have looked like; he didn’t want to.

…and if he still doubted that he would have to leave the team—he was certain of it now. It meant losing his pack… his home…

He looked down,

Scott was just lying there, weak and scared and completely white.

Knowing that it could never be undone, Logan knelt down, his knees on either side of Scott’s shins, and began slowly lowering himself, covering the pale, wary body with his own muscular one.

Scott didn’t struggle. Instead he held very, very still. As Logan proceeded Scott began panting; quick shallow breaths that didn’t feel right.

“Are you going to be sick?”

Scott just shook his head ‘no’ and reluctant, Logan went on.

Thinking of the highly vascular areas he should be targeting, Logan pressed his bare torso to Scott’s, slipped his forearms under Scott’s shoulders so that he could warm his armpits, and lastly, he pushed the coltish thighs apart forcing the younger man to straddle him so that he could warm up Scott’s inner thighs.

He then covered them both with the blanket.

“There, that’s all there is to it. You okay?” Logan didn’t let the guilt he was feeling sneak into his voice. He was saving Scott’s life and that’s all that mattered right then.

Scott didn’t reply, his breaths still shallow and fast.

Guilt ridden Logan mumbled, “Just hold still, help is on the way.”

Even though his groin was pressed to Scott’s, and his heavier body was forcing the boy to spread his legs suggestively wide—Logan didn’t need any of his Zen tricks. He felt so horrible about forcing himself onto Summers—that the situation was the opposite of arousing. It was the kind of stuff that would haunt him in his nightmares.

He tried keeping his distance in spite of the circumstances, but his neck was beginning to burn with the effort of averting his face from Scott, and eventually he surrendered and rested his chin on Scott’s shoulder.

That was when he caught the first whiff of pheromones.

What the hell?

…was the kid turned on by all this?

Scott got so offended that he could almost taste it. When Logan said that he hated the idea of touching him, even therapeutically, Scott momentarily wished that he would die of hypothermia and end it all.

He realized that he wasn’t thinking straight, in his hazy state he was feeling almost drunk; his speech was slurry, and he couldn’t come up with complete sentences... and yet his heartbreak was very real, his anger and humiliation were very raw.

Then Logan did this… _thing_ to him, and Scott just knew that if he’d live to tell—he’d fantasize about this  night more times than he’d ever care to admit…

…Logan had forcibly took off his clothes, laid him on his back, then forced Scott to straddle him as if he was getting fucked by the feral mutant.

In spite of everything—it was turning him on. Not a hard on, not exactly as he was still too weak, but he was getting there… his entire body was warming up as he soaked Logan’s body heat.

“…Scott?”

Was Logan angry? Disgusted?

Scott was still out of it, his judgment still impaired, and maybe that was why he had decided to come clean even though he already knew Logan’s answer.

“…I tried telling you today.”

“Telling me what?” Logan sounded incredulous, a bit angry even.

“Never mind.”

“Telling me _what_ , Summers?”

Unable to think straight, Scott answered the only way that he could; he sent one shaky hand to cup Logan’s face, then deciding where his lips ought to be, he moved in and kissed the other man.

Logan drew back as if he got burned, “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“…no.” Scott answered in a sad, little voice.

“I-- you-- …how long have been feeling this way?!” Logan finally found the words. Scott’s lips were dry and soft, and his mouth still tingled from the brief touch.

“Long enough… Look I get it—I’m sorry. Just forget I ever—”

It was Logan who pressed a kiss to Scott’s lips then.  That scent, that amazing, arousing scent was for him? All along… all the time he denied himself he could have just…

…he could have nothing. Scott was still a student. The age gap was ridiculous.

He tore his mouth away and used his hold on Scott to restrain him when he tried to move in for another kiss.

“No.”

“...Logan? What’s wrong?”

“You’re just a kid.”

“I’m legal.”

“And I’m ancient.”

“And hard.” Scott pointed out, pressing against him to stress his words. Logan drew in a sharp breath.

“Logan… we both clearly want to…” restrained as he was Scott managed to kiss a bare shoulder, then Logan’s neck… his jawline… the bristles were softer than he imagined against his dry lips. He was so close, he’d wanted Logan for so long…

A shudder ran through Logan’s body. Holding back on sex for too long made him feel funny, in heat almost. He figured that it was part of the reason he responded so strongly to Scott’s mere scent... and now he had him pinned beneath him and smelling so good just for him… If he wasn't careful he’d lose what little control he mastered over the last couple of months…

“Scott!” the kid began to dry hump him, rubbing their hard-ons together through their boxer shorts. “Scott, stop! Chuck would kill me—”

“What for?” Scott panted. He got so much warmer, the sick tint was gone, and a healthy flush took its place. “We’re not doing much… this doesn’t count… Logan… we’re all alone here… just us… I want you so much… you make me so hard…”

And holding back for too long, Logan broke. He fused his mouth to Scott’s and his hips began moving against him, mirroring his desperate thrusts.

Logan vaguely recalled that kids did that nowadays, called it ‘clothed sex’. He wanted to do so much more, but Scott was right. This wasn’t sex, this didn’t count. And if Scott was being honest they both waited for six long months… they deserved some reprieve...

 

\----------

Behind Scott’s closed eyelids, his thoughts were running wild. When Hank distributed the assignments earlier that morning, Scott was thrilled and terrified to hear that he was paired with Logan. Had he known they’d end up shirtless on the roof for the rest of the morning—he would have passed.

Staring at Logan’s jeans-clad ass when the older mutant turned to the blackboard was one thing. Having him half naked and so damn close was another.

It was the government’s fault, really.

Their god damned sentinels.

After being forced to use their powers in public and expose themselves, all of the kids who were publically known as mutants got kicked out of Bayville high. The later meant being home schooled and that meant… _ugh._

With mutants banned from public education Ororo, Logan, Hank and Charles became their new teachers. Everyone were surprised by how well it worked out. The professor was even considering making it a permanent arrangement, regardless of Congress’s final decision which was due next month.  

But as far as Scott was concerned, all of these changes meant one thing alone—seeing more of Logan.

He tried doing something about it at long last, but his feeble attempt backfired and Scott grimaced as he reminisced;

 _‘Man, they’re gonna trash this place before we even get moved back in.’_ Logan grumbled earlier that day, watching the semi-coordinated effort below them.

Standing on the roof in mid-August meant that the sun was beating down directly at them, and when Scott got there Logan was already shirtless. Scott had to quickly turn his back on him so that the older mutant wouldn’t see the blush that began creeping up his neck. 

  _How will I explain this?_ He panicked. Gulping he pulled his own shirt off and hung it on the door handle. _And that is why I turned._ He told himself sternly, scraping enough courage to face Logan. 

When he finally did—he felt like a fool. Logan wasn’t looking his way. The feral mutant was bent over a toolbox, examining its content.

“It will have to do.” Logan straightened up and Scott had to remind himself for the hundredth time that the ruby lenses were completely opaque.

…if they weren’t Logan would have knocked him off the face of the earth a long time ago. Lately, Scott couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

He was never attracted to a guy before… but that said, having spent half of his life lonely and blind, attraction was altogether new to him.

When Scott was brought to the mansion and given his ruby eyewear he was hoping to finally blend in… he soon learned that he stood out even in a school full of mutants.

They all thought that he was weird for caring so much. For taking the X-Men project so seriously. Scott didn’t get it. They were all given a second chance—why shouldn’t they use it to help others?

Sometimes he thought that the other students chose to deny that they were a minority and discriminated against because it was the easier option… And sometimes he thought that allowing these kids a normal, careless puberty was the professor’s greatest achievement. That maybe he was too mature for his age; that life made him grow up faster.   

At the very least the other students looked up to him. Him being somewhat standoffish and less likely to fool around translated to the other students as authority. That, and—he was popular with the girls for some reason (according to Jubilee it was his looks and him being the athletic type, and no he didn’t ask—Jubilee blushed like crazy when she realized that he was lying on the sofa, accidentally overhearing her and Tabatha gossip.)

He didn’t really care about those things, but he secretly hoped that Logan saw and thought better of him in light of how much the other students liked him, and how Charles trusted him.

How silly… maybe he wasn’t all that mature after all.

But yeah, Logan…

At first Scott thought that it was just fascination. The earnestness in which Logan ran the danger room sessions was admirable to Scott. He loved that he wasn’t the only one acting so solemn for a change. He loved that they could spend time together in complete silence without it being considered rude or lame. Logan didn’t seem to judge him the way the rest of the world did.

And he always admired the way Logan didn’t give a damn what people might think, as well as his loyalty and his strength, his knowledge of martial arts and automobiles… 

Then all of those things happened and suddenly Logan became a full time teacher and Scott got to see a lot more of him. That was when things began to… _change_. Logan was assigned with history studies and the usually enthusiastic Scott found it harder and harder to concentrate. He found it easier and easier to just stare at Logan, mapping his muscles and enjoying the sound of his voice.

It wasn’t until the dreams started that he realized his feelings were beginning to get out of hand.

The first dream started innocently enough. It was Logan who gave him his driving lessons back in the day, and in his dream they drove through the woods surrounding the mansion.

‘Concentrate’ the Logan in his dream said,

‘I can’t. Move your hand.’ Logan’s hand was resting on his jeans-clad thigh, big and hot.

‘Better?’ Logan dragged it up his thigh until he was cupping his groin.

‘No!’ Scott panted.

‘Hey, eyes on the road Summers!’ Logan warned, then unbuttoned and unzipped him.

‘Stop…’ Scott begged ‘I’m gonna crush the car…’

‘No you won’t.’ Logan’s lips brushed his ear ‘I taught you better than that.’ Logan slipped his hand past his waistband and into his underwear, cupping his cock and balls in his big roughed palm, and Scott woke with a start… and a hard on. 

His face burnt the following day in Logan’s class, the dream still fresh in his mind. Even talking to the other students made him feel awkward, Scott felt like his homoerotic dream was written all over his face. He kept telling himself that at least he was in good company; about half of the female students had a crush on the Wolverine... and the thought always made him roll his eyes.

That day he forced himself to act normal. To thank Logan after their danger room session the way he normally would have. But the words were stammered. His cheeks were burning up. He was only too glad to leave.

To his surprise (and admittedly fear), it was the first dream out of many, and they only got more explicit. It got to a point where Scott couldn’t stay in the same room as Logan without having some sort of a physical reaction to his presence, and so even though he was dying to approach him—he ended up avoiding the feral mutant all together.

Lately he found that more often than not, he was too sad to eat and too preoccupied to sleep... It was beginning to seriously interfere with his life.

He spent the last six months trying to understand whether it was just a man crush, but the feelings didn’t go away. If anything—they only intensified. So today on the roof he tried:

‘Logan? Have you ever… you know… really cared for someone?’

‘Pliers.’ Was Logan’s only reply. He looked like he couldn’t care less, but needing to get it off his chest Scott forced himself to go on.

‘I mean you felt it so strong that you couldn’t even get the words out?’

‘Yeah, once.’ Logan said and Scott’s heart missed a beat.

‘The most beautiful bike I ever saw. I was so speechless someone else bought her.’ And Scott’s heart sank. He should have expected as much from his cynical team member.

‘Not wire stripers, pliers! Use your eyes kid!’

It hurt. Scott wouldn’t have gotten it wrong if his heart wasn’t beating so fast. Bringing it up took all of his courage.

‘Look,’ Logan got up. He looked angry. ‘Here’s how I see it. I’d like to finish this job before New Year’s… so if you don’t tell her—I will!’

‘Err, no! That’s okay!’ Scott raised both his hands. He wasn’t even sure who’s ‘her’. Jean? Rogue? But now Logan was certain that there was a girl in the picture and it only served to prove that he wasn’t thinking of Scott that way at all.

But now… now he had Logan all to himself, away from the professor and the team.

Feeling brave Scott ran his hands down Logan’s muscular back, his cock twitching at the thrill it sent all the way to the tips of his toes. He’d been dying to touch the feral mutant this way for so long he now felt dizzy with arousal and joy.

Cupping Logan’s ass Scott grinded his painfully hard dick against Logan’s at the exact same time the feral mutant thrust—and almost came.

 _Not yet…_ he begged his teenager’s hormonal body, wanting it to last forever. He wasn’t sure Logan would ever allow it again, not under any other circumstances, so every second count.

But aroused as he was, his skin was beginning to burn from the friction of his boxer shorts. He sent a shaky hand to Logan’s briefs and tried pulling them off.

“Scott.” Logan froze and Scott withdrew his hand as if he got burnt.

“I’m sorry… please—don’t stop…” Scott begged, terrified that his greediness had broken the spell. If this was the end of their tryst he’d never forgive himself!

“Hey… don’t be like that. I want to be able to look Charles in the eyes when I tell him hardly anything happened tonight. Kay?”

Relived, Scott nodded and Logan sealed the deal with a quick kiss. He then cupped Scott through his briefs and began stroking him in long, firms tugs, the kind that were meant to get him off hard and fast.

“No please! I’m so close!” Scott begged even while arching his back and throwing his head back.

“I know.” Logan said hoarsely and swiped his thumb over the head of Scott’s cock, making the younger man orgasm with a shout.      

 ** _“Aw! Logan! —Please… please…”_** Scott begged as he came. _Please stay with me—please let it mean something, I want you for the long haul, I want you so bad!_

_…please… please…_

_…Oh, God. Oh, wow…_ he never came this hard before.

“…Logan?...” still panting, Scott blindly reached out, only to find Logan’s hand buried in his briefs, stroking his still hard cock.

“Let me?” Scott hoped that he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. 

“Can’t Summers,” Logan panted, “Not now anyway. Just… _ah…_ just let me look at ya…”

And Scott could feel himself blushing at the notion as he nodded. He placed a hand over Logan’s briefs, wanting to feel him jerk off through the fabric and to his relief Logan didn’t protest.

“…Do you like what you see?” Scott asked shyly; but he needed to know—he needed something to hold on to.

“You’re gorgeous Slim,” Logan half moaned and plant a gentle kiss on Scott’s forehead; a kiss that made him feel as though he was melting.

“Then why won’t you let me touch you?”

“Is …is that… what you… want?” Logan panted,

“I want to go down on you.”

Logan hissed and fastened his pace. “You’re a virgin Summers?”

It was somewhere between a statement and a question, but seeing how his words were turning Logan on, Scott earnestly replied;

“Yeah. I want you to be my first.”

 And losing a short inner struggle, Logan came with a tightly controlled gasp and collapsed on top of Scott, panting fast and silently.

Even in the soupy state he was in, Scott realized that he was about to wake up and hung on to sleep with all his might.

He was happy, as happy as he’d been in what felt like forever, and he didn’t want to wake up to the reality that was his life lately.

But the noise was getting louder and louder, someone was nudging his shoulder harder and harder… and Scott nearly opened his eyes, but years of practicing self-control made him realize that his glasses were missing even in his sleep and he jumped to a sitting position.

“Easy, Summers.” Logan rasped and Scott heart began fluttering. He wasn’t happy in his dream… he was happy period. Never the less the Cyclops in him took over;

“What’s going on?”

He hated sounding so helpless, but he couldn’t stand being in the dark—nor without a plan. 

“Relax kid, it’s just the blackbird. Let’s get you dressed.”

“What’s the time?” Scott asked although he could guesstimate it was early morning by the warm sun caressing his face in the otherwise crisp desert chill. He felt strangely calm. Strangely good considering all he’d been through in the last 24 hours.

“Six A.M.” Logan got up and Scott immediately missed his touch; without his warmth a shudder ran along Scott’s spine and his arms covered in goosebumps.

“Here,” Logan handed him his torn up jeans.

“…Logan?”

“Yeah?” was the gruff reply.

“I…”

_Now Summers. Or you will be beating yourself up for years to come. Like with the damn antenna._

“Umm… about… you know?”

“…”

“About… About last night?”

“Yeah? What about it?”

Logan didn’t pretend that it didn’t happen, which he guessed was a good sign. It gave him enough courage to ask;

“Do you wanna maybe like… go somewhere later? Err—like a movie or something? Like on Friday?”Why did he sound like Jubilee all of a sudden? And why couldn’t he stop the blush that was creeping up his neck?

“Scott…” Logan began and his tone of voice made Scott’s face fall before he could complete one sentence, “Last night... I shouldn’t have let it happen. You were completely out of it, five minutes earlier you wouldn’t let me practice first aid in order to keep you alive. I’m sorry, but— …hey?”

Logan sighed deeply seeing the tears that were glittering on Scott long eyelashes, seeing that the kid was squeezing his eyes impossibly tight to keep things in check.

“I should resign. I’m gonna as soon as we’re back in the mansion—I took advantage of a student and I have no business being—”

“I knew what I was doing!”

“You’re 17 Scott, you don’t really—”

“18 this February!”

“You were sick and in no position to—”

“I wasn’t sick yesterday on the roof!”

“You were talking about Jean!”

And Scott laughed, a short bitter laugh. “Jean knows. She’s the only one I told, the only one I trusted enough—because living like this for the last half year had been hell. Turns out she’s the one who asked Hank to send us to the roof, told him that male bonding would do us both some good.”

“Bullshit kid, I’ve seen the way you were looking at each other when she levitated the antenna!”

“We were talking, Logan! She was encouraging me to say something, tell you how I feel.”

Scott couldn’t judge Logan’s reaction in the silence that followed, and cursed having to do this without his glasses. As if asking someone out for the first time wasn’t hard enough as it was. But six months of heartbreak and sexual frustration made him try one last time, “Logan? I thought that you wanted this, too? I mean everything that happened last night?” He reached out blindly, but he miscalculated and Logan was out of his reach. Embarrassed, he let his hand drop.

“Summers…”

“—So what do you say? Friday? See how it goes?” the teenager’s voice shook; he looked as if his entire world depended on the feral mutant’s answer.

Logan sighed and Scott’s heart doubled its speed; it was the sound of a man surrendering.

“I haven’t been on a date in a century… and I don’t mean figuratively.”

Scott laughed as a heart crushing burden was lifted off his chest. It didn’t last long;

“…but Slim. I won’t do it without Charles’s blessing.”

“We don’t need his permission!”

“Hey. I know you better than that. He’s your legal guardian and one of my closest friends. If he doesn’t want me dating his son—I’m not doing it.”

“You’re kidding! Logan, things changed since your last date, you don’t need anyone’s permission to take me out.”

But Logan didn’t reply. Instead he quickly finished getting dressed and before Scott could say anything else he heard Ororo’s voice;

“Scott? Logan? Thank God, we were worried sick about you two!”

“Ro. Help the kid to the jet, will ya? I’ll go fetch my bike.”

And for the longest moment Logan just stood there, completely lost in thought.

The flight home was depressing. Logan acted as though Scott was a stranger that he happened to rescue from a pack of wolves. He didn’t even look his way when he finally joined them aboard the Blackbird. Instead, he made a beeline towards his usual seat with the rest of the faculty and physical pain gripped Scott’s heart. He didn’t cry since his parents died, and felt that if he isn’t careful this might be his first time…

//Hey…//

Jean was the only thing keeping him together. She gave him a pair of ruby glasses that she brought with her, as well as a fresh change of clothes, and held his hand throughout the flight no questions asked. He guessed that it was easy to tell things didn’t go his way from the cold shoulder Logan gave him, though.  

 _//You’re going to tell me all about it in the mansion, and I’m sure it’s not as bad as it feels//_ her voice rang in his head as she squeezed his hand.

Thanking his lucky star for having such an amazing best friend, he wondered if the other students would be as understanding… then he wondered if there would be _anything_ to be understanding _about_ … and his heart sank even more.

Charles was angry with him.

His anger hit Logan like a ton of bricks as soon as he entered the jet.  

Half of him, feral and wild, wanted to snare at the professor and tell him to mind his own fucking business. The other half, the one he suspected still nurtured from 19th century values, was well aware of how he himself intended to quit the x-men and leave the mansion for what he did earlier that night.

And so the flight home was nerve wracking, long and tense with the early morning sun hurting his eyes and intensifying his headache; needing to stay keen on his surroundings and wary of the wolves, Logan stayed up all night, savoring what he thought was his only chance to hold Summers close, breath him in… stroke his soft auburn hair… and he might be right.

McCoy was too quiet for his liking, too, and Logan revolted at the notion that he knew. The professor accidently picking up on it while using cerebro in order to locate them was one thing. Him telling Hank was another.

All he wanted was some time alone to think things through, but as soon as they’ve landed and he was about to make his escape Charles broadcasted;

//My office, now.//

 

“Scott…Come on, let’s head down to the infirmary, I’d feel much better after I take a closer look at your head.”

But Scott couldn’t tear his eyes off of Logan’s back as he followed the professor out of the hanger. This was none of his step dad’s business! Red, hot rage made him spin to face Hank and half shout; “You realize that he saved my life out there?”

But the doctor’s eyes immediately hardened, “Yes Scott. And you realize that things are more complicated than that. Now come on.”

He felt a telekinetic tap on his shoulder and his eyes searched Jean’s. She nodded at him in encouragement and his shoulders sagged.

“Fine,” He began making his way to the infirmary, with Hank not far behind. He knew that Jean was right, that being on his best behavior was probably his smartest move, but even while making his way to Hank’s office, he swore that he wouldn’t let anyone come between Logan and him, no matter what.

Logan was still gritting his teeth while waiting for the professor to start. Following Chuck to his office like a dog on a leash was making his blood boil.

He hated taking commands on a good day, let alone ones of such personal nature. Then, as if to make it worse, the professor gave him another;

“Sit.”

Charles simply said and Logan forced himself to comply. He was doing it for Scott. For his own piece of mind. He took comfort in knowing that those horrible six months were finally coming to an end… one way or another.

He sat and met Charles’s grey eyes, refusing to blink, refusing to feel but the smallest twinge of fear.

“I realize that I’m the one to blame,” Charles began, and unprepared Logan’s eyes widened in spite of himself.

“I could tell that you were unhappy. That you were going out of your way to close your mind to me... But it didn’t take a telepath to see the pain in your eyes whenever Scott was around.”

And Logan had to look away, ashamed. Was his lust for Scott so plainly written on his face all along?  

//Not lust, old friend. If it was but lust—we wouldn’t be sitting here right now//

And Logan met the wise, grey eyes once more.

“Yeah? So maybe I care about Summers, what of it?”

“I’m not judging you Logan. Or at least, I wasn’t judging you up until now. But what happened last night was wrong. Scott was sick, he wasn’t thinking straight and was in no position to—”

“—I know.” Logan cut him. He felt guilty enough without having Chuck twisting the knife. And he was willing to pay for his actions—

“I know that you didn’t let things get too… well, that you wanted to make sure Scott didn’t do anything he’d live to regret, but under the circumstances you should have taken a step back all together.”

“Yeah Chuck, I know, I realize okay?” Logan rose to his feet, “But it kept him alive… I… I was losing him, it wasn’t just him who was having a hard time thinking straight!” 

Logan sighed heavily before continuing,

“…look I…” he tried finding the right words. He didn’t want to leave, but he realized that as soon as Charles dismisses him he’d have to go upstairs, pack all of his stuff and head up north all alone.

_…then spend another winter in the Northwest Territories._

The fireplace was always lit in the spacious office and suddenly he felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of the room, consumed by the fire. Panic was tightening his chest, and he didn’t realize that Chuck was talking to him at first;

“I just need to know that it wouldn’t happen again if you are to date my son.”

And Logan looked up, shock written all over his face. The words were said in such quiet, earnest manner that for a moment he wasn’t sure whether they were said out loud or in his head.

“…you? We have your blessing?”

“What is the alternative Logan? Lose my most valued team member and one of my dearest friends? Have my son resent me for the rest of his life?”

“Charles, if you don’t want us to—we won’t. Leave it to me—I’ll break it down to Scott and leave your name out of it, make it sound like it was my call—”

“My only request,”

Charles cut him sharply, “Is that you don’t consummate your relationship until Scott turns eighteen. You may or may not comply, I won’t pry and since Scott is no longer a minor what the two of you do in bed is your own business. However, since Scott is inexperienced, and since you two are bound to be working together for many years to come, I’d feel better knowing that you both had enough time to think it through, and that there are feelings involved by that point.”

And Logan nodded. It didn’t make a lot of sense to the Wolverine, but it made a hell of a lot sense to James Howlett, and he had every intention of respecting Charles’ request.

“Thank you.”

It was a much better conclusion than he had ever dared dreaming of.

Now all that was left was to let a 17-year-old guy know that he couldn’t have sex for another six months…

And in spite of it all Logan smirked, his heart filling with the sweetest anticipation.

 

The End

 

 

 

 


	2. New Year's Eve (fanart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fanart


	3. Easter (fanart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fanart

 


End file.
